I'm sure it's empowering—somehow.

I can see Les and Tom fishing, drinking Old Milwaukee out on the coast of Mendocino County.

Twitter was awash with indignant folks wanting only English-speakers to sing "America, the Beautiful". A lot of them also had avatars of themselves holding a fish of some sort. My takeaway: English and fishes.

The lack of a Superb Owl is glaring.

Maybe it will be a two-fer. My money will be on Jimbo and Dölf in a repressed homosexual murder-suicide.

Three songs into their set, the ones you call "André 3000" and "Big Boi" will take off their masks à la Mission Impossible I, to reveal that they are, in fact, the much-fabled Daft Punk, which will cause a thousand dude-bro orgasms from all the EDM-tards from there to the Gobi tent.

Cut 'em some slack. The inverted Priest song made sense given the scene. Plus, by referencing "death metal", we get this, "We Swedes love death metal. It reminds us of death!"

Frank Grimes Jr.

NY lost a bit of the argument when Nino's crafted the $1000 1% "Pizza".

You need to bathe in a puddle of mud(d).

We all assumed that late lead singers of late 90's bro-bands were dicks, but the print Stephen Jenkins and Mark McGrath are making, their assholeness is reaching Creed-Nickelback-Hinder proportions.

According to IMDB, he broke with tradition—he plays Don SR.

Will the protagonist be a millionaire and have all the babes he wants?

They're just biting the Wiggum/Skinner Simpsons spinoff.

He knows where to get a good hammock.

He is here to save Community from danger… Carlos Danger.

And now, Scruffy will do what Scruffy always does.

For me, the 90's died when I saw Chris Cornell sing "Killing In the Name of".

Scott Weiland is the irony of justice…

The family jewels?